Tales of the Magical Winchesters
by 0penfire
Summary: Sam and Dean were raised differently than other boys. Not only did they learn how to hunt monsters, but they also attended Ilvermorny, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. (Short stories from my SPN/Harry Potter Crossover, but can probably be read as their own work.)


_AN: This story is for FlyingThroughClouds on AO3 who requested how John learned about magic. This fic is technically part of my Hogwarts/SPN crossover, but can probably be read on its own._

 _Enjoy!_

-.-.-.-

John Winchester, of Lawrence Kansas, is proud to say that he is perfectly normal, thank you very much.

"Daaaad! Dean turned all my shirts pink while you were gone!"

John sighs. Well, as normal as he could be when he hunted monsters for a living and struggled to raise two young boys.

He tosses his bag onto the closest bed and closes the motel's door. "Dean, you know not to put the reds with the whites."

Sam puts his hands on his hips and side-eyes his brother. "He didn't mess up the laundry."

John amends his previous thought; he is as normal as he could be while he tries to raise two young warlocks.

"You're such a tattle tale!" Dean turns on his brother. Sam looks ready to continue any fight Dean might start.

"Dean, turn your brother's clothes back."

"But Dad, he totally ruined my chance with Jenny today!" Dean pouts.

"You're ten. You shouldn't date _anyone_ until you're older."

"That's the last time I tell you about someone I like," Dean mutters and walks dramatically into the motel's bathroom. He slams the door behind him.

John rubs the heels of his hands over his eyes. When he first pulled into the motel's parking lot, he had hoped to enter the room, lie in bed, and maybe sleep for a week. He should have known that things rarely went to plan in a Winchester's life.

John turns to Sam. "Do you think you're able to turn your clothes back to normal by yourself? Dean probably won't be fixing them any time soon." Sam scrunches up his face.

"I don't know. Usually the magic I do is aside-asid-"

"Accidental?" John offers.

"Yeah! Asidenentual!" Sam says, proud of himself for using a big word. "I don't know if I can do it."

"Try feeling for your magic. Dean's told me that his feels a bit like fire. Your mother..." John trails off for a moment. "She thought of hers as a warm summer breeze."

Sam closes his eyes, and as far as John can tell, tries to locate where his magic is. John sits on the bed with a huff. Everything hurt, and he could really use a shower. But Dean was currently occupying the only bathroom.

Sam peeks an eye open. "You don't talk about mom much," he ventures. John can't believe how carefully Sam is able to tread with his words.

"You're right, I don't." Sam's mouth falls into a pout and both his eyes open. John decides to throw him a bone. "Now what is the question you really want to ask?"

Sam's entire demeanour brightens. "How did you and mom meet? What was mom's favourite spell? How did you guys know that me and Dean were warlocks?"

"Woah woah woah! Reign it in there, cowboy." Sam giggles. "Well, your mother and I met around twelve years ago. I'd stopped into a restaurant that she was a waitress at. She was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen, and while speaking to her, I learned that she was quick witted, and very smart."

"Smarter than you?"

"So much smarter than me," John leans forward and whispers, "but I think that you might be smarter than her when you grow up."

Sam's eyes practically bulge out. "Really?"

"Of course. Unless your brain is too busy sprouting hair out of your skull to learn new things." John ruffles Sam's long hair.

"As for your mom's favourite spell, she was excellent at charms. She definitely charmed me," John winks at his son.

"Dad! You know what I meant!"

John chuckles to himself. "Her favourite spell actually was a charm. I don't know the name of it, but she used to conjure fish made of water when doing chores around the house. She told me that she used to do it accidentally at school when she was really caught up in something like homework or reading.

"Once we had you, she used the fish to get you to sleep." A smile finds its way onto John's face at the memory of baby Sam reaching up in his crib to touch the creatures. They swam between his little fingers doing figure eights for the giggling infant. "You liked to play with them."

"Do you think I could make fish?" Sam gets excited again. "What if I made a fish zoo and then we could get people to pay a whole quarter to see them. Then you wouldn't have to work so often!" John makes a face.

"Sorry, bud. I would have to work even if you could get your aquarium up and running. There are people out there who need my help, and I can't let them down." Sam pouts. He doesn't know what his dad does, but he understands that his job is important enough to sometimes leave for weeks at a time.

"You also wanted to know how I learned about magic, right Sam?" John tries to change the topic to something lighter. Sam's demeanour brightens considerably and he nods.

John raises his voice slightly. "It sure is a shame that Dean is in the bathroom, though. He probably would like to hear about me discovering magic, right?"

"Why are you yelling, Dad?" Sam asks.

But John is rewarded with the bathroom door opening and Dean walking out trying to look casual and failing. "What are you guys up to?"

"Oh, hey there kiddo. I was just about to tell Sam about how I discovered magic."

"I guess I could stick around for that," Dean says and hops up onto the other bed.

John shakes his head at how he can still play Dean like a fiddle. "Well, it was when you were only four months old, Dean…"

-.-.-.-

 _"John, could you go get Dean? I'm on the phone," Mary called from the kitchen._

 _"Sure thing, dear." John set his beer on the coffee table, checking to make sure a coaster was under it._

 _Mary was a handy-woman, if John had ever seen one. She always seemed to find a way to mend things that were broken. Leave her with a problem and she would fix it in no time. But he and Mary were busy enough with their new child, and he didn't want to make extra work for her._

 _John made his way to the room that would be an office when it didn't have Dean's crib in it. John didn't hear crying from the room, meaning that his boy was probably fast asleep, just as Mary had left him. John popped his head into the room with a smile. A smile which snapped off his face at what he saw._

 _Toys were dancing around his son's crib. The stuffed animals which were usually placed away in the toy chest or on the shelves bounce up and down while Dean watched them, drinking from his bottle which John knows was not left in his crib._

 _A feeling of dread filled him when he realized that they were surrounding Dean, and his boy was in danger. John swatted the floating toys out of his way, and picked Dean up. He ran from the room and down the stairs. Dean had begun crying._

 _"Mary! We've got to leave!"_

 _Mary had since hung up the phone and looked at him with concern._

 _"Why? What's wrong?"_

 _John grabbed his keys and wallet from the counter while Dean still cried in his arms._

 _"This house is possessed or something. Dean's toys were floating around him, I swear. No strings or anything."_

 _"They were?" John turned because her voice was not shocked, but excited. She rushed over to John and took Dean out of his arms._

 _"You were doing magic? That's my boy! I knew that our family usually shows signs early, but three months is practically unheard of!" At his mother's happiness, Dean's crying was replaced with laughter._

 _John couldn't seem to find his tongue. All he could do was make a confused sound, his panic slowly fading away. His hands fell to his sides._

 _Mary glanced up at him, and her smile faded. "Oh, John...why don't we sit down on the couch. I have something to tell you."_

-.-.-

"And that's it. I would have preferred your mother just telling me earlier in our relationship, but at least she did tell me in the end."

He looks at Sam who looks like he has committed the story to memory. Dean raises an eyebrow at John, but he doesn't question the abrupt ending of the story.

"After that, your mom didn't hide the magic that she did around the house. I got used to the feather dusters and brooms flying by, and strange plants and herbs started to take up space in the window sills. It became so common, that magic became my new normal."

"Can we get some magic plants?" Sam asks.

"We can't get magic plants," Dean scoffs. "They wouldn't survive all the moving. And you'd probably leave them in a motel."

"I would not!"

"You would too."

John doesn't regret not telling them the whole story. They don't need to know how after Mary's confession, he'd stormed out of the house, gotten into the Impala and drove to a hotel just out of town. How Bobby, a mutual friend of him and Mary called the hotel which Singer had no rights knowing about. Singer had cut his excuses off bluntly with words he still remembered perfectly. _"Yes, magic is real, and you just abandoned your family. Get the hell home."_

John had gone home, feeling wretched when he entered the house and saw Mary in tears on the couch, holding Dean to her chest. As John entered, she flinched.

Her voice was no more than a whisper. "I should have told you sooner -" John raised a hand.

"I shouldn't have flown off the handle like that. I am so sorry, Mary." John lowered his head to the ground, letting Mary make the next step.

"I forgive you, it's quite a bit to take in." Mary tilted his chin up slightly with a finger and kissed him softly.

"Dad, are you alright?" Dean asks. "You were spacing out there a bit."

John snaps out of his thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine, just tired from...work. Anyways, that's the story."

"Thanks, Dad." Deans says. He doesn't have to clarify what for.

"Now that you're out of the bathroom, how about you help your brother get his shirts back to normal. Maybe teach him how to focus his magic?"

Dean sighs like John just asked him to do his homework, or to stop lipping off his teachers. He meets Dean's green eyes with a stern look.

"Alright, Sammy."

John notices that Dean goes through the same processes that Bobby had taught him. It is almost funny watching Dean channel inner old crotchety warlock.

"Look for the energy that your magic stems from. I can feel mine like a crackling fire. When I'm not using my magic, I feel it here." Dean traces a circle over his chest. "And then once you find it, you can bring it out to your hands and use it." A glowing blue ball appears in Dean's outstretched hands. The light is reflected in Sam's wide eyes. "Now you try it!"

"I don't think I can."

"Just do it." Dean groans impatiently, the ball of light in his hand disappears.

Sam closes his eyes. The motel room is silent, neither John nor Dean wanting to break Sam's concentration.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Sam finally speaks. "I think I've got it." Moments later a green ball of magic forms in his hand.

"I did it! I did it!" Sam shoves the ball into John's face. The ball is warm, but not hot enough to cause any harm, though it does make John jump. He claps at Sam's success.

"Great work!" Dean pats Sam on the back. "Now you can try to do other things. To fix your shirts, just think about what you want your magic to do." Sam runs to grabs an armful of his shirts and places them on the bed. Sam uses Dean's instructions again and the shirt on the top of the pile turns to its original black. John notices Dean's own exhale and subtle finger flick towards the pile as the rest of the pile returns to its original hues.

John smiles as both boys cheer. His family may not be normal, but they are his. And he'll do his best to keep them together and smiling, just as they are now.

-.-.-.-

 _AN: Thanks for being so patient with the requests guys. I'm so sorry, but I haven't felt like writing much lately. I do intend to finish the other requests that I got, both on this website and AO3. Thank you all again for following The Winchester Brothers and the Big Freaking Snake (or if you're just passing through, give my main story a read!)_


End file.
